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Perfect

August 14, 2007 at 9:11 AM

I went to the studio to grab something and saw my violin lying in its case. Reaching down, I strummed the open strings. Sometimes, I fixate on the round sound of the grounded perfect fifths; they reach upward like tall, straight trees. I plucked the open strings for a while, listening to how each one lay neatly locked into the next, chiming in agreement.

Could the manual acrobatics of the highly skilled dare compete with such a sound as this? I think twice before interrupting to speak, reluctant to disturb the security of this untainted perfection. For a while, I am content to simply leave them open, like a blank canvas.

I’ll think of something better to say later.

reminds me of a funny t-shirt i saw

had a pic with some guy with duct tape over his mouth...

it said silence is golden
duct tape is silver

Emily, very nice.
You're right - there's just something pure and beautiful about the sound of those four open strings.